


Trinity Ring

by ponderinfrustration



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Erik's bewilderment, F/M, Fluff, wedding ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponderinfrustration/pseuds/ponderinfrustration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik contemplates the ring that Christine put on his finger, and how remarkable it is for one such as him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trinity Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that Trinity rings such as the one described did not exist until 1924 or so, but just this once I'm going to throw historical accuracy to the wind.

Three rings interlinked. When closed together, it simply looks like one remarkably designed ring, delicately woven of wicker. Yet when he dexterously twists his fingers, flicking the ring loose with his thumb, it (they?) slide(s) along his third finger so that the rings seem to flow over each other, waves overlapping and hiding.

He could play with his ring for hours, though it's not playing so much as fiddling, and never seem to realise he is doing so. He simply slips into thought looking into the fire, or idly plucking the strings of the violin propped against his chest, and glides the ring the length of his finger and back, over and over, silver glinting in the soft candlelight. The rhythm easing his thoughts, repetitive and mesmerising, settling the racing of his heart, she can see it. Such an odd little mannerism, and it makes her smile watching him so unaware and contemplative.

 _Not that the bounds of marriage are uncomfortable_ , he murmured, once, in a world of his own, _merely unexpected_.

She wakes one night, lazy and sleep heavy, the candlelight softening Erik's sharp features on the pillow beside her. He is not asleep either, instead studying his ring, or rather rings, the interlocking circlets spread wide, balanced delicately on his fingertips before his studious eye.

 _Love_ , he murmurs, _fidelity, friendship. And you gave them all to me, Christine, you did. Why?_

And that soft little _why_ , breathed into the air when he can't know she is awake, tears right at her heart.

 _Because I love you, Erik_ , she whispers, kissing his cheek. _I love you with every fibre of my being, and I'll never leave you, I swear._

And is she dreaming, or are there tears shining in his eyes as she takes the ring ever so gently and slips it back onto his finger?

_I-Christine-_

His voice breaks and he swallows, his lips soft and still so uncertain beneath hers, even after all of this time.

_I know, darling. I know._


End file.
